Man In The Mirror

Man in the Mirror - Chapter 1
By VR

It was raining the night Leon came downstairs with a gun. The thunder shook the house, even down in the basement where I sat, huddled in the corner with nothing but a thin blanket to keep myself warm. It was starting to get colder, what with autumn settling in day by day, but all I had to my name were the clothes I wore and, if I was lucky, something to sleep comfortably.

But the temperature and the weather had nothing to do with what happened. It's just the way I remember it.

Of course, the moment I heard him coming down those stairs, each creak made by his steps causing my heart to race faster and my breath to shorten in panic, I stopped whatever I was doing. I turned away from the light the open door upstairs cast on the stairway, and prayed he was only just trying to find his glasses, or retrieve something from the drying machine. But it's not like anybody heard my prayers.

"Where the fuck are you?" His voice made me shudder so hard. He sounded so menacing, like he had something sick planned for me, sicker than anything he'd ever done. I dared not respond, squeezing my eyes shut and curling up tight in my corner in hopes that he wouldn't see me. I pretended to be asleep.

It didn't work.

I didn't have the time to respond when my arm was suddenly grabbed, his fingernails sinking into my skin and causing it to sting. Even as he pulled me from the floor to stand on my feet, I worked hard to keep myself quiet. I bet I impressed him when I made eye contact, even if he didn't show it. Instead, I was backhanded across the face.

"How dare you hide from me, you little shit... How fucking dare you!" Leon's hands were strong. He could throw me off balance just by slapping me, which was what happened - I fell back in submission, my first instinct to back up against the wall. He stomped forward and kicked me in between my legs, which was enough for me to cry out in pain.

"I'm sorry! I-I'm sorry!" I whined, throwing my arms up in defense to shield my face. By then I was shaking; half from fear, half from the awkwardness of the position I had landed in after that kick.

I never tried to stand up to him, I just did as I was told. And even if I obeyed him completely, the chance he'd attack me still lingered. I was his stress relief, his punching bag. He didn't hesitate to take advantage of it ever - If he was angry, I was the first thing he'd swing at.

...Yes, thing.

My father never referred to me as a human. I was always an 'it'; not a 'he', not a 'she'. He didn't care. According to him, I was subjected to his abuse because of the way I was born. It was my fault that I was sexually mutated, that I wasn't one or the other sex. I was both and neither, something the doctor that delivered me called a 'hermaphrodite'. Leon simply called me a 'mistake'.

"I'm sure you are. Get up," Leon growled, before I felt his fingers grip my hair a second later. I whimpered as I was yanked upwards and back onto my feet because I wasn't quick enough to do it on my own. Even as I stood again, my entire body trembling with the adrenaline pumping through me, he didn't let me go. I stared right up at his face when he pulled my head back, only for him to roll his eyes in disgust. He finally let me go, turning away to cough into his hand.

Leon had been sick for a while - He actually was recovering from a pneumonia that kept him in bed for two weeks straight. While he was busy sleeping and sweating off his fever, my other father tried hard to take care of me. Daniel always felt bad, opposed to everything Leon did to me... There were times he even snuck into the basement when Leon was out just to be able to talk to me. He'd check if I was okay, feed me, wash what little clothes I had. Luckily for him, Leon never laid a malicious finger on him because... Well, I'll explain in a moment.

Even though my father was getting over that pneumonia, something kept him sick for longer than he should have been - AIDS. It was killing him slowly, and when he got sick that last time, it was like he knew he was going to die. It was why he came downstairs to begin with, with that weapon in his pocket. He coughed for a long time, though, which worried me. I tried to say something.

"A..are yo--"

"Shut the fuck up," he shot back before I could finish, his breath short. I only realized then what he was planning, as he reached for the black, automatic handgun he'd been hiding in his back pocket. "I've wanted to do this since you were born."

Immediately, I froze in place. I felt the tears well up in my eyes when my hair was once again grabbed and I felt the cool barrel of his gun press against my temple. I didn't dare move or speak, and I held Leon's gaze without ever blinking. I truly thought my life was over.

"Mistakes can be forgiven, dear. This is my way of forgiving you for fucking existing, you disgusting freak." As the gun was cocked, I could see his expression... soften. For a moment, I almost mistook it for genuine concern.. But I knew right away it was sarcasm when he asked, "Have anything to say to me before I pull this trigger?"

I whimpered again. There really was nothing to say. My head spun, and I couldn't find words or string them into sentences soon enough to be able to respond. Finally, my eyes squeezed shut and I burst into tears, clapping my hands over my face. I couldn't handle the fear that left me shaking violently, unable to even stand. I was so scared at that moment, I lost all control of my body and the only thing that kept me on my feet was that hand tightly gripping my hair.

The same hand eventually tossed me, the force of my head colliding with the wall behind me enough to nearly knock me unconscious. As my vision began to blur and I slid down to the floor in a heap, Leon spat at me.

"What are you, some kind of pussy crybaby? That's it," he sounded even angrier than before, but I couldn't move or try to defend myself anymore; my entire body was limp. What finally knocked me out was the last impact - Something big and solid thrown full force at my head.

"Kill yourself," followed by another fit of coughs, was the last thing I remember hearing before everything went black. Apparently I was out, dreamless and unconscious for an entire day, and I woke up when I was shaken hard enough by none other than Daniel. My head pounded in pain - whatever was thrown at me cut my scalp and left my face covered in dried blood. It scared Daniel enough - He was panicking when I finally came to, pulling me into his arms and holding me tight. I could feel him shivering.

"Oh my god... Vincent, I thought he... I was scared you were..." Daniel whined, while I tried hard to return his embrace. I still wasn't all there.

Daniel tended to have trouble speaking. He was such a good man, and I had never seen him get angry in my life. He refused to use certain words, he never cursed and he hated 'ugly' words, or so he called them. He grew up with autism, but that never bothered him or changed how he felt about things. Daniel's world was happy, and he was worry-free and cheerful.

So, of course seeing me half-dead on the basement floor scared the shit out of him.

When I regained enough consciousness to be able to think, and even remember what happened the day before, my eyes widened. I had been looking over Daniel's shoulder, and on the floor next to where I had been lying... Was the gun Leon threatened me with.

That was what he threw at me before he was taken to the hospital.